


Like A Tattoo

by themirrordarkly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angsty Schmoop, BDSM Scene, Beefy Bucky, Beefy Bucky Birthday Swap 2017, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Consensual Kink, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Established Relationship, How Do I Tag, Kink Negotiation, Letters, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mini World Building, Misunderstandings, Nipple Play, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Steve Rogers, Plot Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Punishment play, Rating to Change, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sex, Sexual Content, Skinny Steve, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Spanking, Steve Rogers Feels, Sub Bucky Barnes, Swearing, Tags May Change, Tattoo Artist Steve Rogers, Tattoos, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, shrinkyclinks, working out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 04:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10378614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themirrordarkly/pseuds/themirrordarkly
Summary: Steve and Bucky were in quiet domestic bliss, until they weren't.Steve was beginning to feel ignored. Bucky was grunting and shrugging his way through conversations at the breakfast table and hiding in the workout room. Something had to give to get them back on track again.A simple letter changes everything!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RavenclawWitch18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenclawWitch18/gifts).



> For the Beefy Bucky Birthday Swap 2017! I am so sorry about the delay! :( A boatload of things got in the way, but it is finally here! This is for RavenclawWitch18 who asked for shrinkyclinks, dom Steve, nipple play, orgasm delay, etc.... basically asked for much smut! I tried to add as much of the elements asked for, but might not have got them all in. Anyway, I hope you like it, RavenclawWitch18!
> 
> And seriously, I fail at doing a simple pwp. So the first 2 chapters is a bit of world building, because this is an AU and I can do nothing simple! So I'm sorry about that, but I promise there will be much sex/smut in the last chapter!
> 
> Now, I'm super nervous about this as I haven't written a full out sex scene (it will be in the last chapter, promise) in a long time. So basically what was I thinking when I wrote this?! Anyhow if there is anything that needs to be tagged that I missed let me know. I hope you enjoy reading and I love to hear from you if you liked!
> 
> Okay, now lets all bask in the glory of Beefy Bucky!
> 
> ~~~~~~  
> You're still a part of everything I do  
> You're on my heart just like a tattoo  
> Just like a tattoo I'll always have you...  
> Lyrics from Tattoo by Jordin Sparks

“Like A Tattoo”

The front door opened and closed, followed by the stomp of heavy feet on the doormat, knocking off mud and dirt. Keys clanked, hitting a porcelain bowl. Steve glanced up from his computer and digital tattoo design work for his latest client. And Bucky disappeared without a word into the spare room which doubled as an exercise/sports equipment storage room. Steve’s shoulders sagged like a deflated balloon as he frowned.

Steve had few items in that room--his yoga mat, his mediation CDs, a large blue resistance band thingy, as well as a large fern and a small bamboo water fountain to add color and peacefulness when he practiced his Tai Chi and yoga. The rest was Bucky’s. There was no need for Bucky to visit a local gym when he had all the free weights, dumbbells, kettlebells, and punching bags, plus an elliptical, a suspension trainer and a tread machine at his disposal. Dammit, his Kitaro CDs were being held hostage when Bucky took over that room! There was always YouTube, but still, the better speakers were in that room.

It was becoming a habit, and Steve was beginning to feel ignored. Bucky grunting and shrugging his way through a conversation at breakfast or dinner was not communicating in Steve’s book. There was something wrong and Bucky wasn’t saying what, and it was upsetting Steve, because he couldn’t fix it if he didn’t know the problem. Or if he was the problem. Bucky just came home after a session or work and went straight to that room. Their cozy domestic life was taking a nose-drive, and it didn’t start out that way. If he had to pinpoint it, it started to hit the skids ever since Bucky got his new prosthetic arm and was going to some pretty heavy physical therapy and regular therapy sessions after it.

Steve couldn’t sit still anymore staring at the direction Bucky went, a nervous energy shooting through him with nowhere to go, so he got up to retrieve the mail from earlier. Bill, junk, bill, he silently sorted the mail--handling the mail brought back fond memories.

It was kind of corny and beautiful how they met, him and Bucky. Letters. Old fashion letters. Steve signed up to be a pen-pal for the wounded soldier program. A random vet was assigned and they began corresponding. And Bucky had the most beautiful handwriting, full of loops and elegant script. It spoke of a deep soul or one that took those 4th grade cursive writing lessons to heart. He also found out Bucky lost his left arm in Afghanistan, but didn’t know the full details.

He’d seen Bucky’s dark times and light times and was there offering encouraging words if needed or just writing about the latest movies and his job as a tattoo artist. And Bucky gave back too. Wanting to see his art and being there when his Mom past away. Bucky was always finding humor or quiet wisdom in any given situation. It was either laugh or cry, he once said. It was telling he opened up that much of himself. So it hurt now that Bucky was closing himself off to Steve. It shouldn’t be about him. He kept telling himself that, but yet it was. He was human and it hurt.

And when they finally met face to face on Skype-- _oh God!_ Bucky was the most handsome, quirky, smart ass, son of bitch, and it was love. But Steve didn’t realize it then. Not until he met Bucky in person at a VA picnic at Fort Lee. He flew out to Virginia that weekend—a meet and greet. And was completely speechless for five whole minutes when he spotted him. He needed ice water to clear his throat and jumper cables to restart his heart. Bucky was so tall, board-shouldered, deep-chested and wearing a t-shirt a size too small, because it was about to explode off that brawny body. A t-shirt that was boldly stenciled, “I wish I was an Oscar Meyer wiener.” _What the hell?_ That stupid shirt caressed and stretched across his big body like a glove. It should have been illegal. His thick jean clad thighs and perfect ass were a national treasure.

But when Bucky spoke, it was soft and thoughtful. When he smiled, the whole world lit up. His eyes crinkled with mirth and Steve noticed a slightly crooked tooth in that gorgeous smile. And he was flat out in love or he was having heartburn from the chili dogs—no, it was love.

It didn’t take long for them to realize it was mutual. A date, then sex, then another date, more sex. Did he mention the sex was incredible? Until they found a place to both move into so they didn’t have to travel so far to see each other. Bucky was able to transfer to Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn. And they got a flat in Bed-Stuy.

Steve then went and did something against everything he suggested to his clients. He got a tattoo of Bucky’s name. It wasn’t smart to get the name of your lover tattooed on you. It was permeant, forever (until you went through painful laser removal). And what if they broke up? But that wasn’t what Steve was thinking. The beautiful cursive writing of Bucky Barnes’s name was designed in an elegant piece with doves and rifles across his back. He had Natasha do the inking. And he inked a tattoo on Bucky on request, one of a red star, ribbons, a wolf, a key and a knife. Each symbol had a special meaning to Bucky. It took up Bucky’s right shoulder and upper arm.

The letter came in the mail from Fort Drum in New York. Bucky was accepted as a candidate for an experimental prosthetic arm. The prosthesis Bucky sometimes used was a functional one with a metal pinching grasp, which was good at opening pickle jars, but this one would be different and “classified”. It was all Bucky could say. Bucky was able to get some specs on the arm, with all the important stuff censored. Steve was truly impressed. It looked like something out of Star Wars. It appeared to have movable metallic plates and full articulation.

“They want me back”, he heard Bucky say one day before he left for Fort Drum when they were in the middle of post-coital cuddling. Steve just kissed away the worried expression, not understanding the earth-shattering significance of what he said.

Steve’s attention was drawn to a letter mixed in with the mail, addressed to him. _What the?_ He swore it was Bucky’s handwriting. He checked the returned address. _Holy shit, it was!_ It was sent from Watertown, NY, which was the nearest town outside of Fort Drum.

He walked over to the workout room Bucky vanished into, peering in. And promptly forgot what he was going to say to Bucky, the letter all but disregarded in his hand. Yes, Steve has been living with this man for months, it didn’t matter.

Bucky Barnes was a menace to Steve’s peace of mind, pure and simple. That and he was getting completely aroused by just watching him lift the free weights and barbell in a curl. Steve’s skin flushed, his pulse doing double time and his dick was getting happy. Stupid, dick.

Bucky’s new arm matched his flesh one in size and bulk. The sleeveless grey tank-top already damp with sweat. His long hair starting to escape from its tie, in dewy wisps. His back turned from him, shoulders a mile wide, muscles rippling across his back with each rep. _Jesus!_ Steve never knew a back could have that much muscle definition. Sure he knew, studying human anatomy for art, but this was real, and he could just reach out and lick and dig his fingers into all that beef.

Steve was pathetic, here he was being ignored and all he wanted to do was jump that man’s bones. Instead, he should just jerk himself off in the shower. It’s what he was doing the past month. Steve and his hand were becoming very close. Because he and Bucky were not having sex. They cuddled and spooned, but that was it. And it was driving Steve nuts, because he didn’t know why. Bucky just stopped or showed little interest. Saying he was tried, or therapy was rough, or he had to leave early to unload freight at a local restaurant. Or he was 50 miles away at Fort Drum for more testing.

Yet, he did come home every night and work out and help cook dinner and they sit and watch Netflix’s, before going to bed to sleep. It has been weeks. And with all the increased workouts Bucky was getting bigger. Much bigger. He didn’t have to see a scale to know he had gained weight, and it was all muscle. Well, he was already pretty big, being 6 foot and built sturdy and thick. Previously, he was a little sleeker, his movements like a graceful cat. Now that muscle was getting heavier, the agileness turning more into a dangerous weighty prowl. A bobcat to a mountain lion. He needed new shirts because they all were getting too tight and his biceps where huge even when he didn’t flex them. Just simple things like buttering toast and flipping pancakes where enough to show off the dense muscle.

Steve waited until Bucky finished his reps and was downing water in hungry gulps. His fist crushed the empty bottle, tossing it in a nearby wastebasket. The tension in the room, smoky fog.

“Bucky, I got your letter.” Steve’s nervous fingers were trying not to crinkle the envelope.

Bucky glanced at him, unsurprised he was standing there, and then at a fixed point at the wall. “Did you read it?”

“Well…no.” Feeling a little like an idiot. He used to rip open each letter he got from Bucky in the past, like a candy bar to get to the goodness inside.

Bucky pushed the hair out of his face before dropping down on the weight bench. His fingers lacing together as he gazed down at his feet.

“I think you should read it. I…it was just easier writing you a letter. Like we use too. I...it’s hard to explain to find the words when I’m looking at you. And if you still want to be…if you still.” Bucky shook his head looking dejected and forlorn as if something bad was coming, and it was inescapable. “Just read it, please.”

“O…kay.” An ominous cloud of dread was descending on Steve. Why couldn’t he breathe properly? Why was his heart faltering? He took the letter in the kitchen and carefully opened it up with a paring knife. Slipping the blade though a corner and slicing the top along the crease.

It wasn’t a “Dear John” letter, far from it. It was a ‘Dear Stevie’ letter. One that had Steve plopping down on the sofa, leaving him breathless and wide eyed. Bondage? Discipline? Everything changed. The complete dynamics of their sexual relationship were razed to the salted earth, but from the ashes something new and wondrous could be built brick by careful brick. If only Steve recovered and talked to Bucky.

After Steve got over his dizzy lightheadness and the implications of Bucky’s letter, he stood up on weaken knees, squared his narrow shoulders, lifted his head and marched back into that room with a purpose.

He stopped short when he read Bucky’s posture, the utter unnatural stillness as he sat, his right fist balled up tight, resting on his knee. His eyes flicked up to greet Steve, stormy blue and so completely naked and clear. Steve tread in softer, like approaching a wounded animal. He kneeled in front of Bucky taking both his hands in his, one warm, one cool.

“Hey.” Steve reached out to smooth a lock behind Bucky’s ear. “Let’s talk.”

“I’m so sorry, Stevie. I’ve been an asshole.” Bucky’s voice broke as he spoke. “God, I shouldn’t have let it affect us.” He shook his head.

“I forgive you.” And Steve did, it was that simple and yet. Steve cleared his throat. “But you got to know it hurts when you close down like that.”

“I know.” Bucky’s thumbs did soothing tiny, little circles on the backs of Steve’s hands.

“I love you, that’s not gonna stop.” Steve pressed kisses to Bucky’s knuckles.

“I love you too, baby.” Bucky said with a shaky, quiet laugh, eyes flickering closed before opening again.

“We’ll work this out—together. Okay?” Steve gave Bucky a watery smile. All his love for this man wanted to wrap him up in warm blankets and serve him herbal tea and make everything good for him.

“Yeah, together,” Bucky said, before leaning close, chasing a kiss to Steve’s lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to the next chapter! Fun fact: the alternative title to this story was 'Letters of Negotiations'. I still like it, but I think it sounded too lawyer like? Not sure, still like it though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a interlude.

 

**

At first Steve was a little hurt. What was wrong with the way they had sex? It was good for Steve, but was it good for Bucky? He fucked like a freight train, all power and desperation, fueled by coal and fire. A chugging locomotive, steady and relentless. Bucky assured him nothing was wrong with it. It was fantastic and he loved pounding into Steve’s ‘pretty little ass’ as Bucky put it. But he wanted to experiment a little like he did back in the Army.

“I need to know you’re mine and I’m yours.” Bucky had said solemn and quiet.

“We are.” Steve squeezed his hand.

“I need you to make the decisions, give the orders. Just for awhile.”

Bucky explained in the Army, the training, they broke you down to build you up again. The individual becomes the group, for the whole, and the good of the company, the Army. He was in a special unit so the training was extra hard. He needed that again. Needed to get out of his head sometimes. He was on edge they were going to ask for him back to active duty.

“This arm costs a small fortune.” Bucky flexed his metal fingers. “The military is gonna want to use it and me too cause I’m attached to the damn thing.”

And Bucky went on saying he knew if they asked he’d say yes. Because it was so ingrained. It was who he is or was. He didn’t know. What he went through changed him and he wasn’t so sure the Army was right for him anymore. But he thought, maybe, if he had a small part of that here, he could say no. The order, the belonging, the discipline. With a shy smile, Bucky also added that it would be an incredible turn on if Steve did it.

But the more Steve thought about it, the more it appealed to him. He did have fantasies about being in charge in the bedroom. And he, kind of, classified himself as a ‘power bottom’ when he did some past research on gay sex. Steve was mouthy and demanding during sex and Bucky was mostly quiet and intense. So this new area, one that took more planning and less spontaneity? In a safe environment, controlled, for mutual benefits? Could it work? But the rewards? For both? Steve blood was pounding in his ears as nibbled at his bottom lip. He was kind of excited by it. They could give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

Being bean pole skinny and having to get a stool to reach the top cabinets in his apartment, Steve knew what it was to be the ‘little guy’. He lived it. Pushed and picked on when growing up, it toughen him up, but still he retained the capacity to have a big, mushy heart, volunteering at the local animal shelter and teaching kids art in a summer program at the local Y.

When he was a boy, Steve wished to grow up in his grandfather’s and father’s footsteps. A boyhood dream to be in the military, like when one plays pretend fireman or policeman. A decorated war hero in Vietnam, his grandfather gave his life in the service. His father was in the National Guard until a freak traffic accident took his life. So the military was in his genes, his blood, and he’d be remiss if he didn’t wish at one time he could join up. But life had a different path for him. He grew up with different interests, but still with a deep seated desire to help and right wrongs where he could. So it was perfectly natural he fell for a military man and God help him, Steve would do anything to help out Bucky. They were in this together. There was more to discover about Bucky Barnes, and himself, for that matter. A journey of self-discovery.

Steve figured out years ago he was a highly sexual being and also very gay. Bucky appeared to have been experimenting with his sexual identity and preferences and was still very willing and open to new things. This wasn’t a bad thing for them, but a new direction, a new path, in the ever winding road of life. And Steve was ready to take that leap, because he didn’t think he could do this with anyone else. Bucky trusted him and he trusted him back. Trust. It floored Steve that Bucky trusted him so much. They were talking and communicating, and the world was just fucking rainbows and unicorns to Steve right now. Steve started sketching out a unicorn farting rainbows for his portfolio—maybe someone would request a tattoo of it. He could only hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be up very soon (this week)!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I didn't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy this fic! Please let me know if you do! I'd love to hear from you!  
> I'm on tumblr under starmaki. ^_^


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